n killing as many
animals as possible. A referee followed each of us, horseback, and
counted the buffaloes killed by each man. The excursionists and other
spectators rode out to the hunting-grounds in wagons and on horseback,
keeping well out of sight of the buffaloes, so as not to frighten them
until the time came for us to dash into the herd. They were permitted
to approach closely enough to see what was going on.

For the first "run" we were fortunate in getting good ground. Comstock
was mounted on his favorite horse. I rode old Brigham. I felt confident
that I had the advantage in two things: first, I had the best buffalo
horse in the country; second, I was using what was known at the time as
a needle-gun, a breech-loading Springfield rifle, caliber .50. This was
"Lucretia," the weapon of which I have already told you. Comstock's
Henry rifle, though it could fire more rapidly than mine, did not, I
felt certain, carry powder and lead enough to equal my weapon in
execution.

When the time came to go into the herd, Comstock and I dashed forward,
followed by the referees. The animals separated. Comstock took the left
bunch, I the right. My great forte in killing buffaloes was to get them
circling by riding my horse at the head of the herd and shooting their
leaders. Thus the brutes behind were crowded to the left, so that they
were soon going round and round.

This particular morning the animals were very accommodating. I soon had
them running in a beautiful circle. I dropped them thick and fast till
I had killed thirty-eight, which finished my "run."

Comstock began shooting at the rear of the buffaloes he was chasing,
and they kept on in a straight line. He succeeded in killing
twenty-three, but they were scattered over a distance of three miles.
The animals I had shot lay close together.

Our St. Louis friends set out champagne when the result of the first
run was announced. It proved a good drink on a Kansas prairie, and a
buffalo hunter proved an excellent man to dispose of it.

While we were resting we espied another herd approaching. It was a
small drove, but we prepared to make it serve our purpose. The
buffaloes were cows and calves, quicker in their movements than the
bulls. We charged in among them, and I got eighteen to Comstock's
fourteen.

Again the spectators approached, and once more the champagne went
round. After a luncheon we resumed the hunt. Three miles distant we saw
another herd. I was so